


Retards

by stharridan



Series: Bells and Candy [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 07:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stharridan/pseuds/stharridan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does 'retarded' mean? Kenpachi teaches Yachiru the real meaning of the word - in his own 'subtle' way - and an unfortunate team member finds out the hard way that Kenpachi doesn't go anywhere without his little ball of pink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retards

The door opened to reveal a beaming face of unblemished skin, dark chin-length hair and a brow decorated with yellow and red feathers. Yumichika sashayed in with a sing-song "good morning!" and plopped a huge pile of paperwork on his captain's desk.

Kenpachi wanted to kill the man right then and there.

As if reading his thoughts, his little lieutenant came skipping into the office and, when her eyes focused on the Fifth Seat, she pointed an accusing finger at him and pouted.

"Ken-chan's gonna kill ya if ya don't get out soon."

Yumichika didn't show any signs of surprise. He had figured something along those lines would happen. In fact, it took place nearly every single day and he was more than accustomed to the verbal abuse he received from his captain and lieutenant.

At the intensifying glare from Kenpachi, Yumichika gave a quick bow and darted out, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Kenpachi leaned back in his chair and glared at the pile of paperwork. It was so high that it blocked his view of the door entirely. If he took off his eyepatch, there would be no doubt in his mind that he could destroy the documents in just one stare. A grin of malice crept its way up his face and, just when he was about to slip the eyepatch off, imagination already running wild with a wonderful image of disintegrating papers, Yachiru poked her head out from behind the pile.

"I didn't know ya liked workin', Ken-chan."

At the questioning look on her face, Kenpachi frowned. "What the hell are ye talkin' 'bout?"

She pointed up at him, directly where the grin used to be. "What's with the smile then?"

"I wasn't smilin', ye lil' brat. Who the hell'd smile when paperwork's all in their face?" he muttered, running a hand over his forehead. "Must be one kinda retarded to be smilin' at some damn paperwork."

Yachiru scrunched up her nose. "Re...tar...what was that, Ken-chan?"

"'Retarded.' I ain't tellin' ye what it means." Kenpachi burst out with a laugh at Yachiru's instant pout. It was so early in the morning and he wasn't going to give into that so soon. "Ain't gonna work on me, brat."

Yachiru turned on her heel and raced out of the room. In no less than five seconds, Kenpachi could hear a loud shriek of "Feather-face!" down the hallway that caused a lighthearted chuckle to leave him. Let Yumichika deal with the brat for the morning; he had other stuff to do. The first – though he wanted to make it the last - thing on his list was the... _thing_ in front of him. Kenpachi didn't bother calling it by its own specified noun as he grasped a sheet of pristine white paper from the top of the pile. He had the very sudden and tempting urge to stain it with the blood of the Fourth Division members.

Kenpachi had gone through just two or three mission reports and the day's duty roster when he heard rapid thumping outside the office. Footsteps. He looked up just in time to see the door burst open, swinging around and into the wall with a loud bang, and Yachiru was on his desk in a heartbeat, staring up at him with wide, inquisitive eyes.

In his peripheral vision, Kenpachi could see papers flying in every direction. The pile that had been right in front of him was gone.

"Ken- _chan_! Did'ja just call me _retarded_?"

"Ye sure as hell should be!" he snarled, pushing his chair away from the desk and jumping to his feet. Papers and documents and important bullshit that came in black and white were strewn all over the place. Kenpachi could only stare in disbelief. "What the...what the _hell_ are ye doin'?"

"Feather-face didn't wanna tell me what it means, so I went to see Baldy. Baldy just laughed and told me that I should come back and ask you, but then I went to Maki-Maki. Panda-chan was there too, so she told me that 'retarded' means crazy." Yachiru's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "And she _laughed_ at me and called me retarded and said that you think I'm retarded, too! What did I-"

"That _woman_ called ye _retarded_?" Kenpachi's anger flared and, without another word, he stormed out of the office. The sounds of clashing zanpakuto in the dojo stopped immediately as the captain's spiritual pressure blazed throughout the corridors and hallways of the barracks. From reading the roster just minutes before, he knew who was working in which area, and when he arrived at the male bathrooms and made eye contact with the said woman, a little part of him prided himself in the strength of his own memory.

Kenpachi didn't need to think, speak or ask questions. All he did was take the surprised "Panda-chan" by her throat, swing her around like she weighed barely a blade of grass, and fling her straight through the bathroom wall. Aramaki was frozen to the spot in plain fear; the mop in his white-knuckled grip trembled akin to the shaking of his body.

But Kenpachi wasn't exactly done with that simple as fuck throw. He marched up to where Panda-chan lay sprawled on her back in the center of the courtyard, face already stained with blood from the wound on her forehead.

"Hey there, ye weak-ass fuckface." Kenpachi planted a foot on her stomach, eliciting a choked yelp from his quarry, and leaned his weight on it. "Mind tellin' me what ye just said to Yachiru?"

When she didn't answer – not that she didn't want to, she just _couldn't_ with all that weight pressed upon her – Kenpachi scoffed and spat in her face. The thick line of spittle threatened to slide into her eye, but she didn't dare move a limb for fear of triggering another outrage.

"I never called ye retarded, 'Chiru. It's just this fucked up coward who made it up." Kenpachi sent a bone-crushing stomp into her abdomen and, satisfied with the agony-rich cry he received, left her there to burn in the sun.

Yachiru was about to go up to her Panda-chan to see whether she was all right, but the warning hiss she got from her Ken-chan made her switch priorities. Instead, she skipped up beside him as they made their way through the courtyard.

"Are ya sure ya didn't call me retarded, Ken-chan?"

"Che. Why the hell would I?" Kenpachi sent an intimidating glare at the many shinigami who had poked their heads out the dojo to see what the commotion was all about. One glance at their captain's expression and they disappeared back indoors.

Yachiru shrugged nonchalantly and leaped onto his back. The familiar weight returned, and Kenpachi was pleased with himself to see that she had warped back to her normal, jolly self. That wasn't so hard now, was it?

"Wanna help with some work, brat?" he asked, weaving his way through the empty hallways of the barracks. Yachiru climbed on top of his head, messing up his spikes and bells – especially the one on the tallest spike which took him about two hours to set up – and looked at him upside-down with suspicion written all over her face.

"Do I get candy?"

The hopeful look in her eyes and the inevitable question made him toss his head back with a hearty laugh, nearly knocking Yachiru right off him.

"Sure thing, runt."

And for the rest of the morning, Kenpachi and his lieutenant bent over papers and documents strewn out on his desk, counting figures and scrawling notes. He did most of the work though, with Yachiru sitting on his shoulders and using his head as a table for her art. She liked to think that what she was doing was also work, and though Kenpachi could laugh his whole head off at that self-proclamation, he chose to keep his mouth shut. If that was what made Yachiru happy, he was content to let her be – even if he had to spend three more hours to re-style his messed up hair.

Meanwhile, oblivious to the both of them, Panda-chan sat on the floor of the men's bathroom, nursing her head wound and spitting out a flurry of colourful curses at the captain and his lieutenant which contained no affection of the slightest degree whatsoever. Aramaki stood to the side, leaning against the sink and laughing at his subordinate.

"Shut up, Aramaki," she growled, flinching as she applied a little too much pressure on the cut.

"You're the one who should've shut your mouth in the first place, fool," he countered. "You really haven't learned anything at all, have you?"

"Well, I didn't see that old bastard around anywhere! Who knew he was going to storm his way in here and beat my fuckin' brains out?"

Aramaki let out an exasperated sigh and started to mop up the bloodstains from the floor. "You should know that wherever there's Lieutenant Kusajishi, there's bound to be Captain Zaraki. If you can't see 'em, that just means that he's right behind you. If he's not there either, then at least he's somewhere _near._ "

"The fuck does _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Idiot." Aramaki slapped her in the face with the mop head. "It _means_ , you had better keep your mouth shut and let other more experienced members do the talkin'."

She pushed the wet mop away and wiped the dirty bloodstains from her face. "Fuck you, Aramaki."

It was then that she saw, maybe for the first time since she had been forced to serve under him, Aramaki pick up a more stern and serious expression. "I ain't kiddin'. I'm tellin' you now and you'd better remember 'cause I really don't wanna be responsible for your murder."

At his words, she froze, fear creeping through her heart.

"The two of 'em, captain and vice, go everywhere together. In my ten-year experience, one ain't seen without the other. If you wanna piss someone off, go to other low-rankin' guys like that she-male Kurosawa. Or Yumichika or Ikkaku if you're brave enough. But," Aramaki lowered his voice to a whisper, "don't _ever_ piss off our lieutenant, 'cause that's just plain suicide. You piss Lieutenant Kusajishi off, you're pissin' Captain Zaraki off."

She was about to nod her understanding when a familiar squeal echoed through the hallway outside.

"Panda-chan!"

Panda-chan leaped to her feet and locked herself in a stall in the blink of an eye. The door to the toilets burst open, and she flinched. As she held her breath, all she could think of was Aramaki's words.

"Ah...Lieutenant!" The Tenth Seat sounded nervous. Anxious, even. She hoped that he could at least control his own words. But it was risky to bet on it.

"Hey, Maki-Maki! Where's Panda-chan?"

_That little brat..._

"She...um...uh – wait, Lieutenant-"

Before Aramaki could stop her - which was quite impossible since she was much faster than him - Yachiru leaped up and clung to the top of a particular stall door. A wide beam spread across her face when she found who she was looking for. Panda-chan let out a yelp, backing up against the wall.

"There ya are! Let's go out and play, Panda-chan! Ken-chan wanted some R 'n' R so you have nothin' to worry 'bout."

Aramaki was making frantic but mute gestures of warning behind the lieutenant's back, but the woman chose to ignore him and yelled, "There's no way in fuckin' hell am I playin' with you, retard!"

Captain Zaraki was having some R 'n' R, wasn't he? Then what was with the sudden flare of spiritual pressure that blasted its way through the small toilet right then and there?

Panda-chan was still wondering about it when the next thing she knew, the stall door flew right off its hinges and slammed her square in the face. An image of a wild grey iris flashed before her, as well as a gleaming grin of sharp canine teeth, before she was sent crashing through a wall for the second time that morning.

"Ye wanna know what 'retarded' means, 'Chiru?" Kenpachi cracked his knuckles, trampling Panda-chan's abdomen with a malicious grin on his face. "Lemme tell ye what it _really_ means..."


End file.
